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Once there was a girl who was lost. She never understood this feeling of displacement and hopelessness that welled up from deep within her, she just knew that she was lost inside herself, and in the world around her, and she had no idea how to be found again. Being lost, among other things, made her very fragile. She was like a sculpture made of glass, which people would stroll by and admire. None of them understood what went on within, and took the perfection of the sculpture for granted. But if she let her guard down, let her resolve at keeping her thoughts and feelings hidden waver, she would break; a crack in the sculpture. Then, people would do a double take, really register that she was there, and complain that something should be done. That was one of her fears. But as time wore on, it got harder and harder to hide herself from the world.